Page 5 of Dad Bod Undercover Boss

Once I’m done filling out the forms, Gerald assigns me to shadow Eva for the week. I try to ignore the surge of possessiveness in my gut and the curl of lust in my loins at the thought of spending the entire week with her.

I need to get this strange pull toward her under control, or things are going to get complicated.

* * *

I findEva back at the window display and watch her for a few moments unnoticed. She’s beautiful, with her glossy brown hair, flawless skin, and blue eyes. She radiates warmth and positivity, humming adorably under her breath as she works. She bends to lift one of the toppled mannequins back on its feet, and the action pulls her pencil skirt tight around the curves of her arse. Fuck, what I wouldn’t do to palm those succulent globes while I kiss her hard and deep.

My cock throbs and rises to attention behind my zipper at the thought of the soft curves lying in wait beneath her clothes. Wide hips perfect for my big hands to anchor her as I fuck her from behind. Heavy breasts with pink nipples made for my mouth and tongue. Strong thighs designed to squeeze my head as I lick her to orgasm.

The imagery is enough to have a bead of fluid leaking from the tip of my cock. Thank God my suit jacket covers my enormous boner. I suck in a deep breath, trying to calm my physical reaction to the goddess before me, but it takes a full minute before I can walk normally.

I move towards Eva as if pulled by gravitational forces outside of my control. “Need help with that?”

She turns and flashes me a breath-stealing smile. “Hey. That would be great, thanks.”

Fuck, what I’d give to see that smile every day for the rest of my life. “You drew the short straw. Gerald assigned me to you this week.”

“Pretty sure I got the extra-long, girthy straw.” She claps a hand over her mouth. “I said that out loud, didn’t I? I’m so sorry, that was unprofessional and inappropriate of me.”

I burst out laughing and wave off her apology. “You’re right. My straw is extra-long and girthy.”

Her blue eyes widen, and her pouty lips form an O as pink highlights her cheekbones. Then she tips her head back and hoots with laughter when I waggle my eyebrows suggestively.

The sound washes over me like a summer breeze. Swear to God, if I couldn’t see my feet planted firmly on the ground, I’d think I was floating on air.

Eva’s eyes glimmer with mischief as she fixes them on me. “I think I’m going to enjoy working with you, Max Lincoln.”

Chapter4

Eva

Yeah,I'm definitely going to enjoy working with Max. He’s an incredibly attractive man, with his broad shoulders and strong jaw. Then there are his eyes. Deep brown and alive with warmth and intelligence. When he looks at me sometimes, I think he can see straight into my soul.

“Eva?”

It takes me a second to register that I’ve drifted off in a Max-induced haze, and he's asked me a question.

I blink at him."Uh, sorry. What did you say?"

His mouth twitches with a repressed smile as if he knows exactly where my thoughts were. "Is window dressing part of the sales assistant duties?"

I clear my throat and force myself into professional mode. “Um, no, but the lady who usually does the window displays called in sick, so I decided to crack on with it while we’re quiet,” I explain, looking at the massive mess I’ve made in the front window.

“Is it typical to be so quiet?” Max asks curiously.

I purse my lips thoughtfully. “Yeah, I suppose so. Things tend to pick up for an hour or two with the lunchtime shoppers.”

We make small talk as he helps me decorate the window and dress the mannequins in the autumn clothing range. I hide my smile as he fumbles to fasten the tiny buttons of the velvet blouse the female mannequin is wearing. But then my thoughts turn to his big fingersunfastening the buttons ofmyblouse, and I squeeze my thighs together as I quickly avert my gaze.

Max brings up points about the business that makes me wonder who Max Lincoln was before he came to be a sales assistant. I'm not sure I buy that he stumbled into this job. He's too smart, too well-dressed, and too knowledgeable for that to be the case. He carries himself like a boss, and it makes me hot and bothered. When I ask him what he did before Sutherland's, I can see that the question makes him uncomfortable, so I let it drop.

I beg some swaths of brown and orange fabric from Haberdashery and paper from Stationery to make leaves for an autumnal scene. We even borrow a small park bench from Home & Garden, laughing like idiots as we sit on it on the way down in the lift.

When we’re done, we stand back to view our handiwork, pleased with how it looks.

“Good job, partner,” I say, holding my hand up for a high five.

“This was all you,” he says, tipping his head towards the window display as he high-fives me. He keeps hold of my hand and links our fingers like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

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